Fix Me
by blue-amythist
Summary: Adam is broken. Broken beyond compare. But when a certain doctor enters his life, he begins to realize that nothing is "unfixable." And nobody is alone. AdamLawrence, rated for language and sexual undertones. Rating may change for later chapters.
1. Truths

_Author's Note: Yay! I've finally decided to stop being lazy and upload a fic. And of course, it's going to be AdamLawrence. But the first chapter is just Adam doing what he does best: Emotionally beating himself up. But of course, Lawrence comes in and helps. In more than one way... If you know what I mean, hehe! This is the first fanfic I've written in over two years, so sorry if it's sucky. But I hope you at least enjoy a bit of this. Anyway, this starts from Adam's point of view so enjoy the first angsty chapter!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Saw or the characters in this story._

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**Adam**

Shit. That's what my life is. Shit.

Sometimes I wonder if I really deserved the second chance I got at my life. A second chance to fix things. But my life is even worse then it was before. All I do all day is lay around pretending that I appreciate what I have. Although, I obviously don't. If I did appreciate my life I would be going out living every day to the fullest and trying new things. But instead, I stay shut up in my dingy apartment and wonder why I'm still alive.

Don't get me wrong, I tried to fix what I had left of my life. For about a week, after I was released from the hospital, I would walk around the city and take pictures of random things that I thought were symbolic. Try to get back into the swing of being a photographer. However, all I could see was blood and all I could hear was screaming. Needless to say, I put my camera in my dark room, and decided not to go in there for a long time. That camera _is_ what almost cost me my life. Hell, what am I saying? That camera didn't do anything. It just showed the one thing that everybody wants to deny: the truth. And part of that truth is that the guy behind the camera is the epitome of a failure.

Despite the fact that I don't deserve the air I breathe and the life that I have, it doesn't stop me from being terrified once night falls. Sleeping alone in a cheap, run down, apartment complex is already scary enough on it's own. However, when you have been kidnapped in that very apartment at one point, and you are prone to be kidnapped again, at any given point, sleeping is not an option. Every little sound I hear is magnified and my mind automatically jumps to the conclusion that I'm going to be taken away and forced to face another unspeakable nightmare. So I turn the volume on my TV up full notch, in a cheap attempt to shut out all other noise. This usually works for about fifteen minutes until I hear a sound that, somehow, manages to be louder than my TV. That's when my pulse starts racing, I start sweating and hyperventilating, and somehow end up huddled in a corner with a knife, weeping and choking on my own spit, shaking uncontrollably, keeping my eyes shut as tight as I possibly can, fearing that if I open them, someone, or something, will be sitting in front of me, ready to take me to the one place that still plagues the thoughts in my mind. I usually wake up the next morning in the same spot I had been the night before, thankful that I'd passed out from my state of panic. And for a split second, I can be thankful that I made it through the night alive. So, in a way, I guess I am appreciative of my life. Or at least appreciative that I don't have to live the last moments of my life terrified and regretful. If I die, I want it to be from my own hand.

I have to admit that the worst feeling I have, besides my fear, is my loneliness. That's the truth that hurts so much to admit: I am completely alone. I've never been very close to my family. My dad is dead, and my mom has always been more interested in her drugs than she ever has been of me. The same could be said for my brother. I haven't talked to them in years. I know that I'm just as guilty for not even trying to help them with their addictions. I've said time and time again that I would like to fix my relationship with them but every time I bring it up I remember how stupid I am to even think something like that. As far as friends go, I've broken my bonds with them ever since my experience in that bathroom. After I had got out of the hospital, a few ex-girlfriends came by to check up on me, but after they realized I was still the same prick I had always been, they never bothered with me again. Which was absolutely fine with me. There's a reason I broke up with all of them in the first place. My guy friends, on the other hand, decided that I "wasn't very fun anymore" and failed to contact me after a month. I guess shutting people out, like I do, can cause you to lose friends. Even I'm smart enough to know that fact.

The only person I could possibly relate with is the one person that I know wouldn't want to have anything more to do with me. I can't really blame him. He probably fixed all of his problems and is living his life correctly, unlike me. He has a wife and a kid so why would he even bother with an idiot like myself? The truth is, not even a doctor of his stature could fix somebody as broken as me. So, why should I even try?

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_A/N: Yeah, short chapter but hey, it's just starting. Aww, poor Adam. We all love you but you're such and ass to yourself! Next chapter we get to see Lawrence. That is, if you review we get to see Lawrence. ;] Review please!!!_


	2. Sad but True

_Author's Note: Okay, so I decided to upload two chapters at the same time because it just felt right. So this is Lawrence's point of view, obviously. Once again, sorry if it's sucky. But try to enjoy it please. :]_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Saw or the characters in this story._

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**Lawrence**

"Can you put your mom on the phone?" I asked Diana. She gave a small, happy response and I smiled at her childish innocence. "Okay honey. I love you."

"I love you too, daddy." I heard the phone shift and waited for Alison's voice.

On the other line I heard a deep sigh and finally Alison spoke. "Yes, Larry?" she said in a resigned voice.

"I'm not working tomorrow." I started. "If it's okay with you, Diana can come over to my place."

"Well," she gave another deep sigh before continuing. "I wish you would have told me that earlier, because she's supposed to go to dinner with my mom and I tomorrow."

"Why can't you go to dinner some other time?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Because tomorrow is my mom's birthday." She stated, matter-of-factly.

Oh. I had forgotten about that. I didn't remember very much about Alison's mother in the first place, considering the woman hated me.

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot." I spoke, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "That's fine then. I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Bye Larry." She hung up before I had a chance to say anything else.

I sighed, hung up the phone, and leaned back in my chair. The one thing I always noticed about my apartment is how much larger it felt when I was the only one living in it. It was a sad, but true, observation. I first noticed it when Alison and Diana moved out. They left a week after I had gotten used to my prosthetic foot. The divorce was kept as quiet as possible, for Diana's sake.

Alison already had the legal papers filed, and all I had to do was simply sign my name and go to a court hearing. I guess she had everything planned out for quite some time. Now it makes sense why more and more packed boxes had started appearing in my closet. When I had confronted her about the small observation she simply rolled her eyes and gave me a response, that sounded, almost, uneasy.

_"Just trying to manage space, Larry."_

Manage space, my ass. It would've been nice if I'd at least got a warning instead of coming home from work one day to an apartment containing only my possessions, a few pieces of furniture, and no family. It was basically, for lack of better words, a slap in the face.

I wasn't upset that Allison was gone. I didn't want to get in the way of her life anymore. It was better that we were apart. It was, however, upsetting that I would not be able to see Diana as often. I guess it's better for both of them though. Not to mention, I don't think they could ever understand what I went through. And I shouldn't put them through any suffering just because I'm suffering myself. They shouldn't have to deal with that nightmare. The nightmare that I still have to face, every time I look down and realize I'm missing one of my feet. Every time I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Every time I hear the voice, in my head, of the person that was stuck in that room with me. Then I see him weeping, covered in blood, clutching my arm and begging me not to leave him.

I remember riding to the hospital that night. Never before had I felt so unaccustomed to the medical nature of my surroundings. While the paramedics scrambled around, grabbing IV tubes and needles, ECG cables, trying to stop the bleeding from my leg as best as they could, I desperately tried to form words to ask them the question that had been lingering on my mind: _Where's Adam?_ No matter how hard I tried, my voice just didn't seem to work. After about a minute of trying to ask my question, my vision slowly faded to black.

When I woke up, I was no longer in an ambulance. I was in the hospital. I felt like I had been hit by a truck and I probably looked like I was half dead. But the question was still there: _Where's Adam?_ I waited, and finally a nurse came to my room to check my vitals. The moment she walked in, I asked her my question. She looked at me strangely, then a light bulb went off in her head.

_"If you're talking about Adam Faulkner, he's in one of our recovery rooms." She paused and smiled. "It's a bit funny that you brought it up. Because he was asking me where _you_ were." _

It's been 11 months, almost a year, since that night. And I haven't seen Adam or heard from him since then.

I'm not going to lie to myself. I miss him. I miss Adam Faulkner. It's a strange feeling I've learned to accept. I wasn't at all sure if I'd ever find a chance in my chaotic schedule to try to find him. Any instance when I would have the possibility to sit down and do something for myself, my mind would completely scatter and I would stare blankly at my wall trying to remember what exactly I had been trying to do. It's almost as if I can only remember things when they have to do with medical procedures and, more often than not, correcting medical interns on their careless mistakes. Therefore, it took some time before I was able to look up Adam's contact information. However, when I did, I could find nothing. No phone number, e-mail, or even home address. When that discovery was made, my mind automatically pulled up a very familiar question: Where's Adam?

I somehow managed to pull myself out of my train of thought, and for a few short moments, stared blankly at the wall. As I've said before, this "wall-staring" is a practice that I'm quite accustomed to. I eventually shifted my gaze in order to look at my desk. I saw how ridiculously organized it was. I'm a bit obsessive over such things. That's why I noticed that something didn't look right. Then I spotted the problem. I saw my address book laying out on my desk and realized that I forgot to put it away earlier. I had called one of my colleagues to discuss a woman who needed her neck fused and I had to look up his number. I picked up the book off my desk and was about to put it away when I noticed something that I hadn't noticed before. There was a scrap of paper sticking out, that was tightly wedged between the pages. I grabbed the small piece of paper and yanked it out of the book. There was a random phone number scribbled on it. That was extremely odd, considering I never had unlabeled phone numbers laying around. Never. That was one of the main things I obsessed over. It would drive me crazy when Alison would leave random phone numbers laying everywhere. Written on napkins, old mail, and just about anything else she could grab while on the phone.

There's only one way to match a phone number with a name. You call the phone number, obviously. I had to get ready for work soon, and thought 'Maybe I shouldn't call just yet.' But something about this number seemed urgent. With that thought in my mind, I picked up the phone and began to dial the scribbled numbers on the paper. For some strange reason, I almost felt nervous, which didn't make any sense to me in the slightest. Honestly, how nerve-racking could a phone call be?

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_A/N: I love foreshadowy, chapter-closing-questions. Anyway, I went back and changed some of the wording and what-not in this chapter since it seemed a bit sloppy before. It's still not exactly how I'd like it, but I guess I'll just have to deal. bleh! Please, review and tell me your thoughts so I know whether or not to continue. Review!_


	3. Phone Etiquette

_Author's Note: Yay, I finished another chapter. This one is a bit short in my opinion. But it has some more of Adam's sarcasm and that's always a good thing. You also get to find out some more about how Adam spends his days. Anyway, thank you to the people who reviewed! You make me happy. :] Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or Saw._

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**Adam**

I hate phones. I don't know what it is about them, but I've always hated them. Maybe it's because they ring, and ring, and I just want to sit on my ass and watch some TV instead of talking on the phone. And no matter how much I tell the stupid thing to shut up, it won't stop until I answer it. Luckily, I don't get very many phone calls anymore. Just the occasional call from my rent collector. Today, however, I got a call that was completely unexpected and threw my entire day off track.

My day started off kind of different. I woke up in my bed instead of in a random corner in my apartment. It had been one of the lucky nights when my neighbors were banging so loud that it was the only thing I could hear, so I was able to fall asleep instead of thinking somebody was roaming around my living room.

After I woke up, around 10 o'clock, I went to my kitchen to check if it was almost time to make a quick trip to the convenience store to buy some food. After all, it had been two months since I last bought groceries or any other basic living necessities. Sure enough, I was still stocked up on saltine crackers and instant noodles. Since I only went to the store when absolutely necessary, I made sure to have the longest lasting and cheapest foods I could find. And not eating for a day was always a good option too. I was about to check for anything else I might have to buy until I remembered something. I had used my last bit of savings two months before to stock up on as much stuff as I could, knowing that I wouldn't have another amount of money any time soon. I was feeling a bit more appreciative that day, so I thought to myself 'I'll go look for a job today. Then I'll have some money to live on'. But after I got home from the convenience store and put everything away, I remembered that the season finale of America's Next Top Model was supposed to be coming on and that seemed to be more important at the time. As soon as I remembered that I was broke, I decided to push that issue aside. No point in worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet.

So, I watched TV for a while. Watching TV is one of the only things I do anymore since it keeps me from losing the small bit of sanity I have left. Today I watched Rachael Ray cook some meal with expensive ingredients, like usual. I guess fails to realize that not everybody is as rich as her. After that, I settled on watching America's Next Top Model. That show always had marathons running which was fine with me because it meant I didn't have to find something new to watch every 30 minutes.

When the remaining six models started their photo shoot, I was completely involved in the show, wondering what drama would be caused next. That's when the phone rang. I sighed angrily and tried to ignore it. After the phone rang a second time the commercials came on. I sighed again and decided to drag myself off of the couch and stumble my way over to the phone. When I answered the call I expected my rent collector to be on the other line. Either that, or some sales person offering me a "free" trip to Mexico.

"What," I said into the receiver, angrily.

"Hello... I--" The man on the other line paused. He sounded confused.

"Listen," I started, keeping as much irritation in my voice as possible. "If you're trying to offer me a free vacation or something stupid like that, then you might as well hang up, call someone else, and waste their time. Because I really don't give a shit!"

There was a pause on the other line. Then after a few seconds, the guy responded.

"Adam?" He said, shocked. "Adam... Is that you?"

"Who is this?" I sounded more freaked out than I meant to, but this was starting to get weird.

"It's me." There was a short pause, then he spoke. "Lawrence."

This person couldn't be serious. I knew the person sounded familiar, but this had to be some kind of sick joke. Either that or I was going completely crazy.

"Are you screwing with me?" I said defensively. Then I spoke quieter. "Or are you really..." I couldn't seem to finish. My mind went completely blank.

"It's really me, Adam." He said. Now, I was sure it was Lawrence. Nobody else had that voice. His voice was one of the things about him I couldn't forget.

"Wow... Uh... Hi." It was a stupid response, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. It was still unreal to me. "How-- How did you get my number?"

"I picked up my address book and I found a piece of paper with a number on it." He started. "I called to see who's phone number it was and... sure enough.." He cut himself off. It was quiet for a few seconds until I spoke up again.

"Oh, that's right." Now I remembered how he got my number. "When I got out of the hospital I wrote my number down and gave it to your wife. I asked her if she could give it to you... I guess she didn't." I laughed in an attempt to get rid of some of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"I guess not," Lawrence said with a small chuckle. There was another silence before he spoke up suddenly. "Damn! I almost forgot. I'm sorry, Adam, but I have to go to work soon."

"Oh, well then I guess I'll let you go." I said, quickly.

"Okay." There was another awkward pause before he spoke again. "But, if it's alright with you, I was wondering if, maybe, I could come see you some time? So we could catch up."

"Uh..." I wasn't expecting him to say that. "Sure... You could come visit. When are you free?"

"I'm not working tomorrow. Is that a good time for you?"

"Sure."

"Well, I'll call tomorrow, around noon, to get your address."

"Okay." I paused. "I guess I'll talk to you then."

"Alright." Another pause. "Bye."

"Bye."

I held the phone in my hand for a few more seconds so I could let the reality sink in. Lawrence Gordon, the man I've been wanting to talk to for 11 months, called me. He called me at one of the most random times possible. And no matter how awkward the conversation had been, I felt happy. Happy and... warm. I was so distracted by these feelings that I didn't even bother to watch the rest of America's Next Top Model.

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_A/N: Neh, I'm not to happy with this chapter but oh well. I like Adam's phone etiquette though. :D And who says that men don't watch America's Next Top Model? Everyone watches that show because there is so much drama! So please review, and we'll see what happens next!_


	4. Fun

_Author's Note: It took me a long time to update this because I've been a bit sick lately. I have a chronic illness called Dysautonomia and if you don't know what it is you should go look it up! It'll make you feel smarter :D. I had to go to the hospital to get an some IV fluid in me because I was going into crisis again, but alas! I'm back. This chapter's short and I'm not necessarily happy with it but, oh well. Please enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Saw, the characters in this story, or Gerber._

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_**Lawrence**

I called Adam's house around noon to ask for his address. After I jotted it down I took a quick shower and arrived at Adam's apartment complex. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel slightly uneasy in these parts of town. For instace, I almost tripped over someone sleeping on the sidewalk. I wasn't sure whether he was a homeless person, a drug addict, or both. As I walked through the many corridors of the dim building, trying to find Adam's living space as quickly as I could, I was unnerved by the grungy residents sneering at me. Luckily, after another minute of wondering about, I found Adam's room. I breathed a sigh of relief, and knocked on the door. There was a few muffled obscenities coming from inside, and then the door opened. Sure enough, there stood Adam.

"Come in." He muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

I expected Adam's apartment to be littered with trash, cluttered with cheap thrift store buys, or filled with photography materials, but to my amazement, the place was almost empty. In the living room, there was an outdated TV sitting in front of a tattered couch. The kitchen consisted of a stove, a microwave, and a refrigerator. I hadn't seen his bedroom, but my guess was that it was practically empty also.

I assumed Adam would look the same but I was apparently wrong. The first difference I noticed was how sick he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and although he wasn't skin and bones, he was still thinner than I remembered. His clothes weren't in much better shape than himself. He was wearing a stained, white shirt and a pair of pants that were baggy and torn at the bottom.

"You can sit on the couch if you want." Adam said, rather monotonously.

I nodded and sat down on one end of the couch, followed by Adam who sat on the other end.

"How's your wife and kid?" Adam asked suddenly.

"Diana's fine," I started, sounding casual. "I'm not sure about Alison, considering we're not married anymore."

"Oh," Adam said, while shaking his head. "Sorry man, I shouldn't of asked that."

"It's fine." I reassured him.

"So, do you live on your own?" He asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

"Well," I chuckled. "I hate to admit, but yes."

"Good for you." Adam said sarcastically, breaking out in a grin and finally making eye contact with me.

When I saw Adam smile, he visibly relaxed. '_Good,' _I thought to myself. _'Maybe this visit wasn't such a bad idea after all.'_

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I didn't leave Adam's home until midnight. I lost complete track of time because, for once, I was having fun. Real fun. We weren't downing booze or anything like that. In all reality, Adam and I just watched TV, cracked immature jokes about each other, and exploded a cup of instant noodles in Adam's microwave. Yet, I had the most fun in those few hours then I've had in years.

At one point during the day, while Adam and I were watching TV, there was a commercial about the Gerber Grow-up Plan. Of course, it showed the picture of the Gerber Baby. That's when Adam looked at me and said "Look, Lawrence! They put you on TV."

"I may look like the Gerber Baby, but you look like a... crack addict." It was a stupid response but it was the only thing I could think of.

Adam busted out laughing and simply nodded his head. "Fair enough."

Although Adam reassured me that he was just kidding, I still couldn't believe he said I looked like the Gerber Baby.

When Adam walked me to the door, I felt reluctant to be leaving.

"That was fun." Adam said, grinning. "We should do it again."

"Definitely." I replied.

Then something happened. As we stood there, completely silent, Adam and I made eye contact and held it for quite some time. It wasn't awkward or fake. It was just a shared moment of recognition between us. I almost didn't notice it, but Adam was smiling. Not his usual sarcastic grin, but a real, genuine smile. I felt like I could just stand there forever in that perfect moment. But like all great things, it had to end eventually.

"I guess you better get going." Adam said, quietly.

I couldn't bring myself to say anything in response. However, I slowly stepped forward, wrapped my arms tightly around Adam's small frame and held him. He seemed not to mind. In fact, he put his arms around me and buried his head in my shoulder. I didn't want to let go of Adam. I wanted to hold onto him and protect him. Although he put up a front by trying to act like the sarcastic guy who doesn't care about anything, I could see right through it. There was little gestures that told me how he really was, and the way he embraced me was a dead give away. He was weak, unsure, and alone. I knew that much. And I had this undying need to help him and take care of him. So, for the longest time, we just held onto each other.

When we finally found it in ourselves to break away from one another, Adam and I uttered a final "goodbye" as I walked out of his apartment, and back to my car.

When I finally arrived home, my mind ran through the events of the day, over and over again. Even as I laid in bed, trying to fall asleep, I had one thought running through my mind: Adam.

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_A/N: My sister said that Lawrence looks like the Gerber Baby, and he most definitely does not. However, it seems to me that Adam would say a smart ass comment like that, so I put it in. Anyway, review and more good stuff will happen, and hopefully the next chapter will be longer._


	5. Dirt Poor

_A/N: Mwuahahahahahahahahaha, I have risen from the dead. After many reviews and watches on this story and people asking me to continue it, I have done it. I hope you like this chapter. I warn you, there might be some contradictions to earlier parts in the story because I didn't go back and re-read it because I'm a complete dolt. But please enjoy and tell me what you think!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Saw, Rachel Ray's 30 Minute Meals, Paula Deen's Home Cooking, As the World Turns, or the epic SNUGGY!111!!!111!  
_

**Adam**

I was running out of money. Fast. I knew that I didn't have much left but it didn't really occur to me until a few days after Lawrence and I saw each other for the first time since we'd been stuck in that hell hole. Maybe seeing him had given me a much needed push. Or maybe I just wanted to upgrade from instant noodles to (Gasp) TV dinners. Either way, he had enough disappointment in his life and I sure as hell didn't want to add to that list. Besides estranged ex-wife, non custody of his kid, and no leg, jobless friend wouldn't be a very good addition.

Since Lawrence was my new--- wait, scratch that. _Only_ friend I decided to ask him advice about what I should do to get some cash in my pocket. As far as I could see there were only a few choices. I could sell the few possessions I had left along with my apartment and live on the streets. Hmm, wouldn't be too difficult. But there were still a few other options. I could simply steal money from random crack addicts that lived in my neighborhood. That, or I could stoop really low, and steal some drugs and just deal them myself. All of these things were possible... Oh, and of course I could get a job. But that seemed so... Let's just say I don't have the responsibility to hold a job.

Lawrence picked me up from my apartment in that nice ass car of his. After the first two times at my place we decided to resume our visits at his apartment. So he always picked me up because I didn't have a car. Once again, another good reason that I had to get a job. It would take me a while to have enough money for a car, but maybe I could at least get some cheap, raggedy ass motorized scooter or some crap like that.

Anyway, his car wasn't the only nice thing he had. I mean, obviously his apartment was nice. The place was like a mini palace. Hell, if he wasn't my friend I probably would have stole all of his stuff already. He had a Snuggy! A damn Snuggy. The blanket with sleeves. The thing that I always see on the infomercials. On top of that he had some amazing, high tech fridge, a laptop, and about a million papers all freakishly organized on his desk. He was always entertained when I snooped around in his things, since, to him, I probably looked like a cave man in some kind of futuristic world.

So, back to me asking him for advice on how I should go about getting some money. We were at his apartment. He was making some kind of food out of a recipe that I almost swore I saw on Rachel Ray's 30 Minute Meals once. Or was it Paula Deen's Home Cooking? No, definitely Rachel. Either way, it smelled pretty damn good. I, however, was sitting my ass down on his comfortable sofa and watching some soap opera. It was called As the---umm-- Earth Goes. Or something like that. Some guy named Luke was mad at his boyfriend for spending time with some girl. So Luke got drunk and kissed his step grandpa (Who wasn't too bad looking, by the way). Only on a soap opera could you see something like that. I was going to have to put that on my 'Shows to Watch' list.

Half way through the episode, Lawrence came in with the food that he'd finished making. Turns out it was some kind of chicken and pasta. Apparently, he noticed the show that was on because he got this half confused, half entertained, and half surprised (Yes I know there are not three halves in a whole. Jesus!) look on his face.

"Are you..." He started, taking a pause before finishing. "Watching a soap opera?"

"Yes." I admitted with a sigh. "Yes I am."

"Hey," He said, sitting down on the sofa and putting the two plates down on the coffee table in front of it. "Diana watches this one all the time."

Now it was my turned to be shocked. "Diana watches this? Don't you think it's a bit too mature for her?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "Somehow she finds it interesting. At least interesting enough to keep her busy when she's home all summer break. Or when she's sick for school."

There was silence between us when Luke came back on the screen. Now his boyfriend Noah (I learned his name.) was angry at Luke for putting the moves on his step grandpa, Brian (Learned his name, too.) because Brian had been coming onto Luke before. Only this time Luke started it.

"You know," Lawrence said with a smile on his face. "Diana had the biggest crush on that blonde one." He was talking about Luke. "But when she found out he had a boyfriend she got a crush on him."

"Too bad she doesn't have a chance with either one of them." I said, chuckling.

After we finished eating dinner, I decided it was the best time to ask for advice on my money problem.

"Umm--" I started, awkwardly. "Can I ask you something?"

Lawrence gazed at me with a concerned look on his face. "Sure. Should I be worried?"

"Mmm." I mumbled. "Maybe." He paused, as if asking me to explain. So I did. "Well, the thing is, I'm really low on cash, as you can probably tell. My land lord keeps screaming at me to pay rent and what's worse is that I can't even afford food. So... I was wondering if you could tell me how I can get some money really fast."

Then he smiled. I told him that I was dirt poor and he was smiling. Did I miss something?

"Adam," Lawrence said, like the answer to all of my problems was obvious. "If you need money just get a job."

I should have known he was going to say that. "Okay." I muttered, still not fully open to the idea. "Where am I supposed to work?"

Lawrence shook his head like I was some hopeless slob. He opened his mouth to speak again. Then he stopped himself and let out a sigh. A smirk crossed his face, and I was scared to hear what had caused it.

"Alright," Lawrence said, his grin never faltering. "I just thought of a perfect job for you."

Anything. Anything that got me a few bucks was worth it.

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_A/N: Well I hope you enjoyed it. Btw, As the World Turns is my guilty pleasure. I love it. Hehe. Anyway, review and what not. Bye!_


	6. Just the Way You Are

_A/N: It's alive!!!! Bwahahahaha! Yes I know I've been gone forever but it's 1 a.m. and I had a random urge to write. So sorry if any of the grammar or spelling sucks because I'm probably more impaired than a drunk person right now. Hopefully you get some enjoyment out of this._

_Disclaimer: Ummm.... How's it go?... Oh yeah! I don't own Saw or any of the characters in this.  
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**Adam**

Stupid. I could now label myself a complete idiot and not have a single doubt in my mind that it was true because there is no way I was being smart when I accepted Lawrence's "job offer". This was no job offer. This was just pathetic. Sure it got me money, but I was seriously starting to think that money was a lot less important than the small shard of dignity I had left.

As if the job wasn't bad enough, I couldn't even get there on my own. I needed to be driven by Dr. Lawrence Gordon, who was not just a doctor, oh no! He was also a saint, a beacon of light to the dirty, low down, charity cases such as myself. All the other saints out there should just give the prick a Nobel peace prize and get it over with.

No matter how much the job sucked, the only thing that could be anymore degrading was to get fired on the first day of work. So I shut my mouth and tried my hardest not to screw up. How hard could it be to mop a floor until it was so squeaky-clean that I could see my own, worthless reflection? That's right folks! Step right up and see somebody who's such a loser that they're below the level of hospital orderlies. In case you haven't figured it out, I'm a damn janitor at the same hospital Lawrence works at it, and I have to say that every time a nurse or orderly walks by with those smug faces I just want to knock their teeth out of their delusional skulls.

It was near lunch time when Lawrence oh-so-graciously came to see how I was doing. I have no idea how he found me since I was in the stairwell with my new best friend, other wise known as a mop. Maybe he just knew that I would be in the most dingy, isolated area of the building.

"How are you holding up?" He asked me.

"Well, lets see here, Larry." I had just started speaking, and Lawrence was already holding his breath. "I'm tired, hungry, and miserable from this shit job you found me. But other than that I'm great."

"You may hate your job, but at least you're making some money and not sitting around on your couch all day watching daytime television and whatever else you can find." Ouch, that actually hurt a bit. And that's not sarcasm. "You know, you should work on being more appreciative."

Great, as if my day couldn't get any worse, I felt like a total dick now. I turned around, hoping Lawrence hadn't left yet. Sure enough, he was still standing there, probably expecting some kind of apology.

"I'm sorry." I said, giving a sigh. Apologizing was always hard for me because most of the time I couldn't admit that I was in the wrong. Now, was not one of those times. "I just wish everyone else who worked here didn't look at me like I'm trash... Even though I am."

"You're not trash." Lawrence said in a more concerned voice than I expected. "Give yourself more credit than that..." He got quiet for a few seconds. "I like you just the way you are."

What he said should have been sappy. But I couldn't remember a single time in my life that somebody told me they liked me exactly how I was. My mom hadn't even told me that. I thought about what Lawrence said again, and suddenly I felt... warm. And for whatever reason, that scared me.

I bit my bottom lip and avoided making eye contact with Lawrence. I could see him staring at me from the corner of my eye but I just ignored him. He knew that I was avoiding him though. I could tell. But I still stood there, and hoped as hard as I could that he would go away. After another few seconds I saw Lawrence shift from one foot to the other.

"I'll see you after my shift is over." He said. And without saying anything else, he left me alone to wallow in self pity again.

For the rest of the day I had a little nagging voice in my head. Only this time, it wasn't telling me how much of a loser I was. It kept repeating "I like you just the way you are" over and over. Pretty soon the voice connected with a body. Now I didn't just hear a voice. I could now see sharp, blue eyes and a head of ridiculously, well-groomed, blonde hair. My mind had become plagued with that single phrase and face. No matter how hard I tried to get away from it, I couldn't. I was stuck. And it still confused me why such a nice thing, could make me so freaked out.

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_A/N: Hope you liked. Review and what not. I'm going to bed. _


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